


Merry and Bright

by probee



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, and maybe even au but shhhhhhhh, because it's christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probee/pseuds/probee
Summary: Through the frost of a perfectly picturesque window, a man and a girl revel in a little holiday cheer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Also, I still don't own any of this, but I thought they all deserved some good tidings.

Through the frost of a perfectly picturesque window, a man and a girl revel in a little holiday cheer.

The city streets are not quite desolate on this Christmas Eve, but there is a tranquility that covers the sidewalks as completely as the light dusting of snow gently trailing down from the sky. It is a season of rebirth, and the weather is cooperating as though an auteur were orchestrating this entire vignette. Shoppers are making their final dashes through stores to fulfill their sugar-plum-inspired fantasies, after which they will find their way through town to mark their own festivities, undoubtedly musing that their lives are as ordinary as those lucky enough to already be ensconced inside their homes.

To any passerby, the scene within this particular apartment would not stand out in any way. A toddler clad in red and green striped pajamas doing her best impression of Santa’s Little Helper squeals in delight as her father turns on the Christmas tree visible beyond the wisp of the organza curtains. The strangers outside don’t know that the child has had the same reaction everyday for the last three weeks at the nightly ceremony, like each occasion is the Rockefeller Center unveiling, wholeheartedly awed at the grandeur of the spectacle befitting her two and a half years on this planet. This is how she takes everything in, every sunrise bringing new wonders to behold and mysteries to explore.

Nor do the interlopers realize the whirlwind of changes in the lives of this duo in the last six months. That the man who deftly lifts her onto his shoulders so that she can reach the star up top, as she insists upon each time, was thrust into this role so recently that he regards her with just as much fascination as she does her holiday trinkets. That what seems like a well-rehearsed tradition to spectators is actually the first official celebration these two have shared as a family. That everything in this tableau — the subjects, the setting, the event itself — is a total novelty to the parties involved. It gives a whole new meaning to immersion learning.

If one were to stare a little longer through the glass pane, a few more details about the nature of the family’s customs would strike observers as perhaps endearingly eclectic, unaware of the rich history in these totems. They are less a by-product of modern-day blended families, and more the last shreds of life clawing its way through tragedy undeterred. 

For instance, the grand piano in the corner of the living room could easily be brushed off as an ostentatious bit of décor given the small size of the space, but to its owner it symbolizes hours spent by his mother’s side, basking in the comfort of her presence even when he was too young to fully appreciate how important these spells would be before it was too late. The cost of shipping the instrument overseas probably far outweighed its monetary value, and acquiring a replacement model in his new hometown would have been the smarter choice, but the heart wants what it wants. (And this is why shipping companies continue to thrive.) The piano was his first grown-up purchase, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t continue the ritual with his own child— even if he sometimes can’t quite believe that she is his and he is hers and together they are part of the same cosmic thread.

Strangers would also miss the fact that the enticing plate of cookies on the dining table to the side of the room was lovingly baked by a grandfather making up for lost time with two generations. He is preparing an elaborate feast off-stage in the kitchen much to his son’s chagrin, packing a lifetime of tradition into a single trip, while trying to soothe each of the souls before him. He does not take these moments for granted, because he too has lost his way over his many decades, and though he isn’t quite sure how to be part of this Rockwellian montage, he owes it to the people in this house to give it his best shot, since he may not get another chance. 

Tomorrow is never a given, and the elder man is cognizant that his son understands this better than most— a fact for which he feels he is partly responsible. He pushes the budding melancholy away as he pulls trays from the oven and stirs spoons over the stove, determined that for once, he will not sabotage this latest reunion. But the partygoers in the streets cannot even see him beyond the flash of white hair buzzing around as he sets each dish on the table for their upcoming meal, so they have no inkling of the significance of his presence in this setting.

Outsiders similarly cannot glean that the Menorah on the windowsill is not simply a nod to the young girl’s heritage that she is too young to grasp. She will nonetheless partake in its pomp, because it is the only way her father knows to keep alive the memory of the family she lost before she could ever really meet, but the weight of its meaning will not dawn on her for many, many years. In some respect, the man in the window is glad about this, because her name is one already tinged with so much grief, and he would do anything to lift that burden from her tiny shoulders for as long as possible.

To the busy onlookers strolling by, the little girl in the elf hat, covered in tinsel and huddled around the silver candelabra as her father tries to still her before the imminent open flame approaches and wreaks havoc in their cross-cultural commemoration, is a sweet reminder of the spirit of the season, the awe across her face mesmerizing in the fashion only children can invoke in the adults around them. Commuters below will never fathom how harrowingly close this little unit came to never getting to celebrate any holiday at all, or how fitting it is that this year, of all years, two sacred events coincide by happenstance on this blessed night to perfectly encapsulate the intricacies of this particular family. The man reflects upon the members of their clan who aren’t here but desperately would have wanted to be if they’d had the choice, and he fights the emotion welling inside him, because this is his first Christmas with his daughter, and he will give her everything he has to make her happy. There will be time to dwell over decisions and mourn them later on.

No, when people on the street sneak a peek inside this cosmopolitan home, they won’t think twice about an attractive man now donning a wayward garland around his neck as he loses the battle in containing the toddler’s iron will, a typical exchange in many other abodes throughout the city at this very instant. Nor will they bat an eye when a beautiful woman with the same chocolate eyes as the child’s appears behind the pair, obviously attempting to settle the tyke in order to light a candle for the first night of Hanukkah while simultaneously avoiding setting the apartment on fire. (After all, such unfortunate luck would not be unheard of in their  extensive experience.) 

Some may remark upon how she beams as she scoops the tot up on her own arms and involves her in reciting the prayers that for now are gibberish to the girl’s ears, but they will not recognize the lengths to which the woman has gone to be here on this night, or how this trio nearly did not come to be. That there is a lifetime of regret in her actions and in his, but none of it matters anymore, because they are together now, all of them, and they refuse to squander what could be the last of their nine lives. 

Stragglers may also notice the contentedness on the man’s face as he gazes upon his companions, attributing it to the typical Christmas spirit that is especially magical in the homes of young families. But they would fail to understand that that look is not just his joy in creating new memories for the girl, but the sense of peace he has finally attained after too long a struggle to find it. He’s been to the ends of the Earth and back more than once, but in this chic apartment in a foreign land an ocean away from his former stomping grounds, he has, completely and ultimately, found his home, with this woman by his side and the child between them bonding them forever more.

So on this special night, when observers around the world of different creeds and cultures gather together to celebrate their faith, in whatever it is they choose, this particular family in the window is renewing theirs, together. If the strangers passing by on the sidewalk glance up at just the right moment, they may catch the spark that passes between the couple as they lock eyes over the girl for a brief instant, before resuming their duties as chief merrymakers to a tireless young elf. Those below will return to their homes after their errands are finished, and perhaps even relate a sweet story about their people-watching at their own fêtes. They have no reason to believe that what they just witnessed is any different from their own celebrations of years gone by, though maybe it will inspire them to reclaim some of that childlike wonder in their gatherings tonight.

But to the people in the window, this holiday means the world, and they take care to honor their past. On this holiest of nights (to both of them) they acknowledge what has been lost, but as they sit down and break bread, so lovingly prepared, they will focus instead on what is to come. In the candle flames and the tinkling lights, there is hope for them all tonight.


End file.
